An Interesting Case
by Loads of Randomness
Summary: A side story to my "When Boys Play" series. Pre series and pre show days. The memorable case Bates mentioned in Chapter 11 of "The Liaison". It involves balloons, a drug dealer and an old lady. Oh no, what has Deeks gotten himself into this time?
1. The Start

Urgh, it _stank _back here. Detective Marty Deeks scrunched up his nose and leaned casually against the dumpster. He resisted the urge to check his watch, it was way too early for his guy to turn up yet. He was coping out the place, seeing who frequented here. Thank God he had finally ditched the uniform, it made loitering down suspicious alleys _so _much easier.

"Are you ok, young man?" a croaky voice asked him.

Deeks looked up to see who spoke in the extremely stereotypical little old lady voice to see, well, a little old lady. The woman literally looked like someone's grandmother. Grey hair, shapeless cardigan, long skirt and, he looked down at her feet, yep – sensible shoes.

He put on his 'charming-sweet-boy' smile, it was zero percent sexy smirk and one hundred per cent 'sweet boy'

"Oh yes, ma'am," he replied, straightening up. "I'm okay."

She peered at him curiously through her glasses and frowned. Uh oh, that was never good.

"This isn't a place for a young man like yourself to be," she informed him. "Don't you know that _disturbed youths _lollygag around here?"

"I'm not hanging around," he assured her, just waiting for a friend."

She looked him up and down and apparently found whatever she was looking for acceptable. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing his "homeless" clothes. Just some worn jeans and a ratty t-shirt. He was meant to be a nervous guy dealing for the first time, not a hopeless street rat.

She pursed her lips and nodded, "You be careful and don't wait too long. Wouldn't want something to happen to you."

"I won't ma'am, thank you," he called after her slowly retreating figure.

He surreptitiously made sure that she made her way down the street okay, it _was _a dodgy area of the city after all. The drug dealer he was scoping out was the least of its problems. Phew, she was out of sight. One less thing to worry about.

The smell of rotting fish and urine drifted over to him again. Deeks felt his stomach roll. Why did low-level drug dealers always do business in dirty, dodgy alleys? What was the harm in doing it somewhere _cleaner_ at least? Somewhere without a dumpster would be a start.

He tapped his foot, at least he didn't have to cover that up – it would play straight into his persona. Where _was _he? Surely even a dealer would show proper business sense and turn up to prescheduled meetings on time, especially when he knew his customer was a newcomer to the whole thing?

Deeks looked down the alley, only seeing that homeless guy he stepped over earlier still there, sleeping and normal LA street traffic walking past. No sign of suspicious business there. He stretched his arms; he'd give it ten more minutes then head back to the precinct. Bates wouldn't be happy but he'd have to deal and figure out another way to get a hook in this drug-dealing syndicate.

Was that footsteps?

"Are you 'Mr Wilkes'?" he asked, making his voice sound anxious and strained, not hard after all this waiting around with no gun.

"Depends who's talking," a calm low voice responded.

The guy was wearing a cap pulled low over his face, because of _course _he was. Today was just full of stereotypes wasn't it?

"Uh, Tim," he said, making sure to stutter.

'Mr Wilkes' made a scathing noise.

"New at this, eh?"

Deeks scratched the back of his head. "That obvious?"

He just got a snort for an answer. They stood in silence for a few minutes, 'Mr Wilkes' lit a cigarette and puffed away. Deeks shuffled his feet.

"So, uh, how does this work? Do I get a turf?" Deeks asked.

"Woah, kid. It don't work like that," 'Mr Wilkes' chided him, breathing smoke in his face.

He coughed and waved the cancerous cloud away. That was nasty.

"How does work then?"

"You prove yourself," he said, as if it was obvious.

"And how do I do that? Are you going to teach me?" Deeks made sure to layer some over-eagerness in there, everyone was a sucker for an eager beaver.

A 'comforting' hand clapped down on his shoulder. Deeks hid a wince.

"Don't worry Tim, I'll teach you what you need to know."

"You will?"

"Yep, you just gotta get rid of this first," and with that a little plastic baggie was thrust into his hand.

"Huh?"

'Mr Wilkes' rolled his eyes impatiently.

"I said you gotta prove yourself, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well flog this and we'll see what we can do with you."

"Uh- "

"Good. Get my money tomorrow. Seven o'clock," hidden eyes looked him up and down. "Wear something darker."

And with that, the guy vanished leaving Deeks blinking down at the baggie of white powder. He looked around him, no one was giving him weird looks. Apparently, what just happened wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Huh.

He pinched the edge of the bag and glared at it.

He wondered what Bates would say about this?


	2. An Interruption: In Disbelief

"That makes no sense. Even by your standards."

"It's what happened though. Honest. There's a report to back it up and everything."

Callen and Sam just stared at him blankly. Deeks smiled nervously at the from where he was perched on the counter, next to their smoothie maker, recounting the case. He drummed his fingers on it.

"The guy just _gave _you the drugs?" Callen asked disbelievingly, shaking his head.

"Yep," Deeks replied, nodding his head solemnly.

"Just like that?" added Sam, looking suspicious.

"Just like that," Deeks repeated with a smirk.

"I'm not buying it," said Callen, leaning back on his chair and folding his arms. "That is _not _how dealers test their recruits. They just don't trust people like that."

Sam nodded his agreement.

"Look, the guy was literally the lowest of the low," Deeks explained. "Grasping for any sort of money and not the brightest bulb on the ceiling."

"They never are," agreed Callen but still obviously not believing their Liaison.

"Why didn't LAPD pick him up if he was so obvious?" queried Sam with a frown.

Deeks just shrugged, "We needed an in with the local drug distribution. He was the only one in the area daft enough to take on someone new."

"Seriously?"

"He was the operation's front. Someone to take the fall if something went pear-shaped."

"Ah," Sam said knowingly, they all had experience with people like that.

That was literally how the major cartels worked. It's how they never got caught, there was always someone to take the blame.

"Still stupid," Callen voiced his opinion.

"What's stupid?" asked Kensi, dropping her bag on her desk only just entering the office.

She had been keeping one of her alias' up to date. Making sure she was still visible in downtown LA.

"The drug dealer Deeks was using to get a foot in the door when undercover," Callen explained.

"The guy literally took Deeks' application straight off the street," added Sam shaking his head in disbelief.

Honestly, had the man never heard of a sting operation? Or even 'too good to be true'? The level of intelligence was definitely decreasing with every passing year for the common criminal.

"Seriously?" Kensi asked, leaning against her desk.

"Yep," Deeks affirmed. "He even handed me a little baggie of the good stuff to flog right away."

Kensi's jaw dropped.

"What? Did he want to get you picked up? Or get himself picked up?"

"I don't think he was capable of that sort of forward thinking," Deeks responded.

"So, getting into their operation was that easy?" Kensi asked sceptically.

Deeks was about to shoot that down when Sam interrupted.

"Wait, is this the operation that made McHughes hate you?" he asked.

"The one where you had to punch him? Was it because LAPD staged a raid in the ring?" added Callen.

"You promised you'd tell me that one," Kensi complained.

Deeks made a loud exasperated noise.

"Are you telling the story, or am I?" he demanded. The three agents looked at him expectantly. "And no, it's not."

"Pity," said Kensi, scrunching up her nose. "So, what's this story about then?"

"The one that Bates mentioned in his speech for the award," Callen answered

"The one with the balloons?"

"And the old lady."

"Still my story!" Deeks exclaimed, waving his hand in the air.

"Get on with it then."

"Oh yeah, it's totally _my _problem that I got interrupted."

"If you were more clear- "

"If what was more clear?" came a voice from the stairs.

The four of them turned around. It was Eric.

"Deeks' story-telling abilities," Sam supplied to the Technical Operator's curious expression.

Eric perked up and joined their semi-circle.

"Oh, what's the story about?"

Deeks groaned, "Seriously?"

"What?" Eric asked, looking hurt.

"He's telling us about one of his weirder cases," said Kensi.

"Can't be any weirder than ours," Eric said with a shrug but plopped himself down in a free chair.

Anything was better than waiting for the systems to update upstairs.

"Oh, trust me," Deeks said with a knowing look. "This is a story with weird characters, unexpectant twists, idiots and a whole clown's worth of balloons."

"And an old lady," added Callen.

"And a _kick ass _old-lady," Deeks corrected. "She's really important to this."

"We'd know that if you actually _told _the story," Sam pointed out with his own exasperated look.

"Can I do that now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Please," said Kensi, giving Callen and Sam the evil eye.

The two senior agents raised their hands in surrender and settled back into their original positions. Callen even made himself more comfortable and put his feet on his desk.

"Please continue," their leader said with a careless wave of his hand.

"Gladly. Now, where was I?"

"The baggie."

"I _know _that. Haven't you people heard of artistic license? Dramatic engaging language?"


	3. The Preparation

"He handed this to you and walled away?" Lieutenant Bates, his boss, asked incredulously.

"Yep," responded Deeks, leaning back in his chair.

"Sit up straight Deeks," Bates told him and muttered. "Off the beat for undercover work for six months and standards already slipping."

Deeks just shot him a grin and-

* * *

Present Day

"Wait, hold on," Kensi interrupted and gave her partner a disbelieving look. "You'd literally only_ just_ started doing undercover work?"

"Without a partner," Sam added disapprovingly.

"I haven't even mentioned anything about a partner," Deeks protested.

"Exactly."

The disapproving look turned into a glare, thankfully not directed at him.

Deeks shifted uncomfortably on his perch.

"We were short staffed already in the undercover detective department. Couldn't waste an extra person on something that might not even succeed," he said shortly, not making eye contact with any of them.

Not that he was fooling his partner, with her narrowed eyes and background knowledge of LAPD'S attitude towards him even then after the hot coffee incident.

"And what about your lack of experience?" Kensi demanded.

Deeks perked up at that question.

"That's what made me perfect for initial contact. Literally an unknown face," he eagerly explained.

"A proto-Deeks," Callen teased.

"Exactly! Hey-"

They all chuckled at their Detective's pouting face.

"Do you want the story or not," he whined.

Kensi snorted but waved her hands for him to continue.

* * *

Deeks just shot him a grin and shrugged.

"I'm not questioning the idiocy of it. It's an easy in for me."

"Unless he wants you to get caught," Bates said thoughtfully, smoothing the bag out.

"That how you want me to play it?" Deeks questioned with a doubtful look. "I don't think 'Tim' needs the street cred of getting picked up by a cop just yet. Way too suspicious. He's meant to be an ordinary bloke."

Bates looked at him and then slowly nodded.

"True," he admitted.

"Maybe we can try that once I need to be visible," Deeks quickly suggested, not wanting to seem like he was shooting his boss down.

No need to burn another bridge here. Bate actually seemed to like him and he'd like to keep it that way.

"You do realise that were not going to actually let you drug deal?" Bate stated. "We're going to give you the money of these alleged deals and make this," he prodded the offending bag, "disappear."

"That's not going to get me anywhere though. They're going to want to see me take part at some point," Deeks pointed out. "Even if you do pick me up the first time I do, which will look good if I "don't give anything away", you can't keep doing that. It'll look like I can't be discrete."

Bates frowned at him but didn't say anything. Deeks fidgeted uncomfortably, had he crossed a line? He didn't mean to, he tended to babble when he was trying to explain his thought process. He was sure what he said made sense...

"How on earth would you pull off drug dealing? Got a tragic back story that I need to know about?" Bates asked, face expressionless.

Deeks scratched the back of his head, if only he knew, and answered immediately, "No, sir. They don't tend to like lawyers with drug problems and my mom would kill me."

"Bringing us back to how will you pull it off if, _if_ it came to you dealing."

Bates looked at him expectantly, thinking he had Deeks cornered.

"It will and I was going to spend some time scouting around know drug dealers' locations and see how they do it," Deeks replied matter-of-factly.

Like, come _on_ this was his _job_. What he was good at.

"And how will you not stick out like a sore thumb and haven't you arrested a fair number before? How will you keep yourself safe and, more importantly, not tip them off that LAPD is onto them?"

Oh, this was his time to shine.

Deeks gave his boss what he hoped was a confidant and mysterious look, "I won't be me."

Bates just gave him a 'I'm-going-to regret-asking-but-I'm-supposed-to-be-in-charge' look and said, "You're going undercover to figure out your undercover assignment."

"Perfect, isn't it?" Deeks replied brightly.

Bates just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. Deeks decided to take that as official approval. Bates _knew _that this was genius, obviously.

He resisted the urge to rub his hands in glee. He had finally got all the tatty clothing he needed together the other day (that hat from the dumpster was just the right size) and he thought he saw a cart down that alley this morning. That would be the finishing touch, the piece-de-resistance. It was his chance to try out an alias he'd been playing around with in his head for a while. This was going to be fun!


	4. An Interruption: In Disgust

Present Day

"Oh God," said Callen, putting his face in his hands.

Kensi and Sam exchanged confused looks and then looked questioningly at him. Deeks was smirking.

"This was the start of it, wasn't it?" Their leader asked, ignoring his confused teammates and giving Deeks an exasperated look.

That just changed the smirk to a broad grin.

"Wait," said Kensi irritably. "Start of what?"

"The start of his hobo get up," Called replied with a scrunched-up nose.

"Seriously?" Kensi asked her partner.

"It's 'homeless'," Deeks corrected Callen before saying to Kensi. "And yes."

"You've had that alias since you started doing undercover work?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Technically he's not a specific person," Deeks said thoughtfully. "So, is he really one alias?"

The agents just rolled their eyes at him. Though, to be fair, he had a point. Deeks' homeless alias was for gathering information when he didn't want to be remembered or seen. Perfect for getting unofficial witness statements from people who don't normally talk to authority figures.

"That jacket is perfect, it was a real find," Deeks said in a pondering tone, remembering how he found the jacket he kept vacuum packed.

"_Is_?" Kensi hissed. "You've kept the _same_ jacket after all these years."

Deeks nodded, extremely pleased with himself. It had to be a record, right?

"Ewww."

"That's just nasty," Sam informed him.

"Hey, don't fix what isn't broken," Deeks replied with a shrug.

"What's broken?" Nell interrupted curiously, from the bottom of the stairs with Eric next to her.

"And nasty?" Eric added.

"Nothing's broken and Deeks' jacket is nasty," Callen explained.

"What happened to it? It was fine this morning," asked Eric, peering at their desks.

"Not _my_ jacket," replied Deeks with an eye roll.

"Are you talking about the homeless one that gave Callen a rash?" Nell guessed, plopping herself on the edge of Deeks' desk. "Because that is _beyond_ nasty."

"That's the hazard of never washing it," Deeks said matter-of-factly.

Kensi suddenly made a spluttering noise and coughed loudly.

"You never wash that thing? _Ever_?" She gasped in a disgusted tone.

"It would destroy it's whole aura," Deeks defended. "And you're one to talk about not washing things."

"I wash my clothes, Deeks. "

"I think it was the 'aura' that gave me the rash," Callen muttered.

"I've changed and updated the rest of its wardrobe," Deeks felt the urge to explain. "Especially the hat. Monty love tearing that thing to shreds."

"Think we could persuade him to do the same to the jacket?" Kensington asked hopefully.

"It would probably kill him," replied Sam.

"And you don't want me to go through the whole process of getting a jacket 'just right' again," said Deeks with a frown. "A lot of, let's just say, _interesting_ work went into getting that particular smell."

"OK, _ew_," Kensi said, scrunching up her nose.

"Why are you discussing Deeks' homeless alias anyway?" Nell asked curiously. "Does he have to go undercover? "

"He's explaining that weird case Bates mentioned in his award ceremony," Sam explained.

Eric's face fell as he whined, "Aw, I wanted to hear that."

Deeks just groaned before he stated with a pointed look at his teammates, "I've barely started thanks to _interruptions_."

"If you were just clearer..."

"Haven't you heard of dramatic build up?"

"You've barely started the story."

"It's called pacing. Or do you want it to not make sense?"

Sam held his hands up in surrender at Deeks' irritated pout. It wasn't exactly fair to goad him like that. The guy looked pathetic and Kensi was glaring at him. Deeks quickly brought Eric and Nell up to speed and they were soon back in their 'story-time' semi-circle. Maybe they should have stolen one of Hetty' chairs for the perfect atmosphere.

"So, how exactly did you get your foot in the door?" Sam asked, curious to know Deeks' methods before he refined them and got more skilled.

It would hopefully be another argument in his favour with the whole 'agents are taught' argument with Callen.

"Did your guy even set up a meeting place if you manged to 'sell' the drugs?" Kensi asked. "I don't remember you saying."

"Did I not?" asked Deeks, frowning. "Because he did. I was to go to his area whenever I managed to flog it. Apparently, he was in the same place every day."

"Seriously?"

Deeks nodded at Callen.

"Told you he wasn't smart."

"Not half."

"Made it easier for me," Deeks pointed out, not exactly worried about the incompetence of past drug dealers. "So, I checked with a few of the guys and they said to leave it at least three days to make it look realistic."

"Because you're a new guy who obviously isn't used to this sort of lifestyle, " Sam said while nodding along. "Good plan."

"Yeah, I was being a bit too eager," Deeks admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Wanted to jump straight in there. Thankfully a few guys held me back."

Kensi looked thoughtful as she added, "Probably would have taken you longer to get their trust if you went the next day."

"Exactly!" Deeks exclaimed continuing with his tale. "So, I waited a few days and caught up with him-"


	5. The Money

Deeks walked casually along the streets to his destination, or tried to. He was trying to keep aware of his surroundings and blend in at the same time. It was harder than it looked. Hopefully no one could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

It was just starting to get dark, the weird point in the day when the sun had set but the sky was still bright. Seven o'clock. That what 'Mr Wilkes' said. Deeks snorted. The name had got more than a few chuckles back at the office. Could the guy be any more fake-gangstery?

He pointedly walked down the same streets as he did a few days ago, giving a few people a nod or a wave as if he knew or recognised them. It was all about acting like you belonged. No one was going to question you if you acted like everyone else. That's were a lot of rookies failed and Marty Deeks was no rookie. He still thought he'd left it a day or two too long but a few of the more experienced (ahem, older) Detectives told him that he couldn't just go back the next day or even the day after that. What idiot was going to buy drugs off an awkward looking nobody? Deeks had almost taken offense at the description until he realised that that was exactly who 'Tim' was.

And there was that lovely alley. A place he was sure to become a lot more familiar with. He scrunched up his nose. It still stank. A hooded figure was leaning against a broken lamppost.

"Mr Wilkes?" he hesitantly greeted.

The guy turned around, yep that was him. Shifty pale eyes and all. Eyes that promptly narrowed at him.

"Tom, innit?"

"Tim," he corrected, flashing him a too big smile.

"Whatever," was the grunted reply. "You were meant to come days ago."

Deeks rubbed the back of his head, not all the nervousness put on.

"Had some trouble selling it," he replied. "Didn't know what to do."

Wilkes made a scathing noise. It wasn't like he gave him any tips! He was literally on his own for this. Not a great way to do "drug runs".

"Look, kid, I don't need no one who can't do simple shit."

"I can do it!" Deeks interrupted indignantly. "You gotta give me a chance!"

Wilkes waved his hand in a shooing motion towards him.

"Nah, you can't do the job so you don't got it."

"Look, man, I need the money," he started to beg.

"Not my problem," Wilkes dismissed. "Can't even flog a few crumbs," he snorted, "useless, you are."

"I never said that I didn't sell it," Deeks said slyly, deciding this was the best moment or he'd completely lose him.

"Oh?" said Wilkes, appearing uninterested but Deeks saw the greedy gleam in his eye.

He suddenly felt a bit uneasy. This is where it could all go wrong. LAPD begrudgingly gave him some money for the drugs, they were a bit hesitant to give so much out to someone as inexperienced as he was but Bates backed him up. Deeks hadn't thought it had been enough but some of the guys assured him that being someone completely new to this wasn't expected to get a load of money for it, you just needed to show that you could get money.

All Deeks thought as he handed over the thin wad was that he hoped to whoever was up there that they were right. This could either get him in, a punch to the gut or shot. He preferred the first option but the second would fine as well.

Wilkes counted out the notes, frowning as he got to the last couple.

"This it?" he demanded. "You didn't keep some for yourself or nothing?"

Dammit, Deeks knew that it would have been too little. He told the higher-ups that!

The man took a threatening step forward, suddenly looking a lot more terrifying. There was a cruel look on his face that Deeks didn't like. He took a quick step back, out of swinging range.

"Nah, man, I'd never do that to you," Deeks babbled. "That's all I got for it I swear."

That got him a dark scowl.

Wilkes spat on the ground and growled, "It was worth more than that."

"I didn't know," Deeks protested, holding his hands out. "I took what I was offered. Didn't know how much I could push it."

"Hmpf."

"Seriously," Deeks continued, trying to look frantic. "It's why I took so long. I did try."

Wilkes looked at him thoughtfully for a long few seconds before slowly accepting it.

"I guess you'll do alright." Deeks beamed at him causing him to quickly add, "With a bit of learning."

"So, I'm in?"

A hand slapped him on the back in an overly friendly gesture. Deeks tried not to stumble.

"You're in, kid."

**AN: Hi, just wanted to say that to encourage myself to actually be prepared and have my writing organised (so I don't have 4 years of not updating -ahem-, sorry my Harry Potter fic fans) I'm offering sneak peaks to the next chapters for all my signed in reviewers. **


	6. An Interruption: In Intrigue

Present Day:

They were all gaping at him again.

"I'm not entirely sure if that was genius or not," Callen finally said.

"Is it really genius when the guy your dealing with has the IQ of a hamster?" Sam retorted.

"Hamsters are actually quite intelligent," Nell commented but the two older agents ignored her.

"It's a reasonable plan," Callen was saying. "This way you don't hand over too much money _and_ you gain their trust."

"A stupid risk," Sam argued. "He could have just dumped Deeks and then where would he be?"

Callen shrugged, "Still here, I doubt that guy was important enough to be able to have goons to kill people."

"Still a risk," Sam reiterated.

"You do know I'm alive and well, right?" Deeks checked, touched at the concern but not really knowing what to do with it when it was directed towards a much younger him.

Sam just snorted, "I don't know how."

"Hey, I have skills!" Deeks complained.

He didn't have to keep bringing up his absence of training. He could still do his job effectively, couldn't he? And he was getting training now.

"Yeah, _now_," Sam pointed out. "You said that you were just starting out then."

"Well, yes. That's why I was put on this case because I was an unknown. I said that," Deeks replied with a frown.

"And they knew you could do it," Kensi added, shooting her partner a quick smile.

Deeks decided not to inform any of them that he was also chosen because of his greenness and if he'd not been successful it wouldn't be too big a loss on the department. Though, guessing from the looks his team was giving him they'd already guessed that.

Thankfully, Eric decided to change the line of conversation by asking, "What about your homeless cover? I thought we were going to hear how you introduced that?"

"All in good time, grasshopper," Deeks replied, resisting the urge to pat him on the head.

Sam snorted.

"I can't believe that you went undercover for your undercover work."

"Says the man who went four covers deep for a case," Callen complained.

"What?" Kensi asked, everyone's heading snapping around to look at the pair in disbelief.

Deeks perked up, this time it wasn't just him who hadn't heard a story.

"Four?" Kensi demanded incredulously. "What the hell, Sam?"

"That's a bit much, isn't it?" Eric asked delicately, not wanting to annoy Sam.

Sam glared at them all.

"It was necessary," he claimed with an audible pout in his voice.

"How did you even get away with four covers on the same case?" asked Kensi. "Surely someone would have made you?"

"I'm just that good," Sam informed her smugly.

"One of his covers was required to go undercover by the trafficking ring we infiltrated and the other two were a City Inspector and IT guy that were only used for ten minutes," said Callen with a smirk.

Kensi and Deeks gave Sam an exasperated look.

"G," Sam complained. "You're meant to be on my side."

"I think I remember that case," Eric reminisced out loud. "You didn't pull off the IT guy very well."

Sam glared dangerously at him.

"But you got the job done," Eric added hurriedly.

"Come on, man. The little covers don't count," Deeks said.

"Yeah, we all use them to get into places that we needed to get into unexpectedly," Kensi agreed, folding her arms.

"I still have the record number of covers in a single op," Sam bragged.

"Actually, I think that's Kensi," said Deeks, frowning in thought. "If we're counting the little covers?"

"Yes..." Sam trailed off looking at him suspiciously.

"Then yeah, it's Kensi," Deep explained with a proud grin. "She played, like, four different types of staff or contractors before going under as an actual client if I remember correctly."

"Wasn't that for the Jenkins Op?" Called asked.

"Yes," replied Kensi, slowly nodding her head. "I had to pretend to be different types of staff to get access to certain areas." She shook her head in amazement, "So many people let you in if you pretend to have lost your card or say you're new."

"That is such bad security," Nell complained.

"I wouldn't complain about it being easy to infiltrate somewhere," said Callen.

"It's just so frustrating," said Eric. "So easily fixed."

Sam, annoyed that he had been upstaged, loudly said, "We're off topic."

"What we're we even talking about?"

"Deeks' need to go undercover for his undercover role," Kensi prompted

"Yeah," said Deeks, jumping back into the conversation and putting on an affronted look. "Don't you want to know how balloons got involved?"

"I'm guessing clowns," said Eric.

"No, one of those party shops," guessed Sam.

Eyeing each other, they both set a twenty on the table in front of them and turned to Deeks expectantly.

"Listen and hear all," he said in an attempt at a mysterious voice.


	7. The Other Cover

Marty Deeks looked at himself critically in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that. He frowned, his reflection mirroring the crease between his eyebrows. Hmm. He adjusted the collar of his jacket so that it hung crooked again, scrunching up his nose as the scent of the jacket wafted up again. It was much better to stay as still as possible in this thing, that way no new fumes got released. Okay, so he didn't _have _to bury it in the garbage outside his apartment but it did make it all the more authentic. Homeless people weren't exactly _clean,_ were they? Especially not the ones you'd rather avoid.

The expression in the mirror cleared so he could practice his anti-social snarl. There was a particular tilt of the lips to it. Deeks shook his head, it was a bit much. Too over the top. He wanted to look pissed off at the world, not demonic. Maybe the listless expression was the best way to go. Yep, spaced out and possibly drugged up. Perfect. No one wanted to interact with _that_.

There still wasn't something quite right though. Was it the jacket? He felt like it was the jacket. With a sigh, Deeks shrugged it off and inspected it. He'd worked really hard on it, finding the perfect sort-of cargo jacket that was definitely oversized at a dodgy looking thrift shop. It was front for something; he was sure of it but so not his problem right now and it did give him a jacket. He'd sliced at the seams around the cuffs to tear them up a bit and soaked the whole thing in his bathtub overnight with bleach, water and salt. It turned out horrendously which was perfect, obviously. Then, as previously mentioned, he'd got the on-the-streets stink into it by literally leaving it out in the streets.

It was ratty, it was disgusting, it made you feel vaguely ill. Like he said before, perfect. He might just keep this thing around even if he never had to go undercover as a homeless person ever again. Too much work had gone into it _and _he was kind of, sort of, proud of it. Stupid, he knew but he couldn't help it. It was gong to let him blend right in. If he could just get the rest of his look right.

Obviously, he was going to make his face dirty. Smudge some dirt into it, ash preferably. It would even give him that smell of standing around a trashcan fire all night, adding to his authenticity. He'd already gone without washing his face for the past week just to get a build up of general grime. It had been difficult and his hands had twitched towards soap at every opportunity but he'd stuck it out. Deeks didn't want his cover blown by something as stupid as having too clean a face. That would be pathetic. On that note, he'd have to get some dirt under his nails as well.

Deeks shuddered at the thought of the state he was in and the dirt that was yet to come. He was _so _taking the world's longest shower after this _and _dousing himself in hospital grade antibacterial soap.

He tugged at the ratty top he had on underneath the coat. It was an old gym one that had seen too few washes and just smelt and looked downright nasty. It was one that had stayed balled up in the corner of his locker for God-knows how long. He couldn't remember the last time he wore it for anything. He'd obviously neglected to wash it as well. It was just plain nasty so into the homeless cover it went.

His attention now turned to his pants, something he still wasn't completely happy about. They didn't look used enough or old enough. They weren't _new _or anything but they definitely weren't lived in but they would have to do. He'd traded his belt for a piece of stout rope, authentically picked up from the streets. Admittedly, it had been from a yard sale but Deeks felt like it still counted. It helped them look less clean. Amazing what one little detail did, not that you'd see it under the jacket. He supposed you would see glimpses of it.

Finally, there was his boots. His two-sizes-too-big, had been trekked through a construction site pair of boots. They were just large enough to give him a shuffling gait, giving him the air of someone that made do with what they had found. They were the things that really helped him get into character. They also stopped him from affecting a limp, something Bates said his was pathetic at and was instructed never to use.

Still not completely satisfied, Deeks sighed heavily. His breath fogging up the mirror so he could no longer see his face. Shrugging himself back into his jacket and running his hand through his hair, he deemed himself to be done. He had to be; he couldn't waste anymore time on this. There was information to be picked up and people to fool. Also, Bates was getting impatient for him to start this.

Ok, one more look in the mirror. He rubbed at the condensation to give himself a clear patch. Lips curved up to bare his teeth in a snarl. Nope, still not good. Lips straightened out and he nodded. He unfolded the jacket collar and skewed it again. A bit better.

Time to go.


	8. The Balloons

This was boring. Incredibly boring. Deeks had been shuffling around for, he raised his wrist to check the time before he remembered he'd taken his watch off, the better part of the day. He had been side-stepped, side-eyed, sworn at, had a mother loudly tell her little girl "Don't breathe, honey. You might catch something," as they all but ran past him and a car splashed a puddle of water all over him. He was sure it had been deliberate. Even the stupid street clown across the pulled faces at him. He was damp, hungry and getting cold as the sun was rapidly setting. He didn't even have any good intel to make up for it.

Was this how the homeless were treated in this city or was it just him? Deeks didn't think that he was coming across as drug addled or anything. He'd just been ducking in and out of the alleys and rummaging vigorously through bins. He should probably name himself but couldn't think of a good one. You had to take your time over details like that, it had to fit. Something to deal with later when he was smelling better, he couldn't really think too hard through this self-inflicted stench. Maybe he'd been a _little _enthusiastic about it.

What was depressing was that he was going to have to loiter around for at least another few hours. He'd scoped out Wilkes' 'turf'. His 'employees' weren't exactly subtle about it, hanging on street corners and bragging about how important they were to him. Unfortunately, nothing more than that, for goons who dealt drugs in _broad daylight _they weren't stupid enough to talk about where they got their stuff from, if they even knew. Hence, the loitering for another few hours. Maybe he'd be able to trail someone to somewhere. A bit of a long shot but, he fingered his phone that had the camera ready, he'd at least be able to get proof of some dealing in the evening. Maybe someone at the office would recognise some of the goons.

"Hey!" Deeks was jerked from his thoughts at the shout and he fought the instinct to turn around. It wouldn't be for him, no one noticed the homeless.

"Hey, you!" or maybe they did.

Deeks felt a hand on his shoulder forcibly turn him around. He was now face to face with a bald dude with a tattoo down one check. He didn't exactly look pleasant.

"Me?" Deeks asked, trying to come across as surprised as he slurred his words slightly.

"Yeah, you. Idiot. What are you doing here?"

"Just walking around," Deeks replied, smiling stupidly at him.

Maybe if he thought Deeks was half-witted, he'd leave him alone.

"You should know not to be anywhere near our area," the guy said threateningly.

"Just walking. No nothing about an area. I'll walk away."

Deeks tried to step away but was stopped by a firm shove. Okay, maybe he'll just stay here.

"Hey, Paulie, what you doing?" a guy with slicked back hair stepped behind him.

"Just teaching this guy a lesson on geography," 'Paulie' answered with a sneer.

"Can me and Joe help? Joe ain't pounded someone today."

A large, mountain of a man shuffled over. He didn't look like he did much talking with his mouth.

"Sure thing. I need a bit of entertainment."

The three guys crowded around him, cruel smiles on their faces. This was definitely not good. All three of them cracked their knuckles.

"Me first," Joe grunted.

Oh, no. Not if Deeks had anything to say about it.

Deeks swung his arm and caught the slicked-back guy under the chin. He went sprawling, leaving an opening for him to run through. The others quickly gave chase. Dammit, this wasn't supposed to happen. This was not going to end well, especially in these stupid, oversized boots. Deeks stumbled slightly but caught himself before he fell on the clown.

AA plan half-forming in his head, he snatched the balloons off the street-clown and bolted before the dude could catch him. All he heard with a disgruntled "Hey!" as he ran off. Footsteps pounded hard at the pavement as he ran as fast as he could, his breaths coming out as pants. Heavier footsteps followed him, two pairs of them. This was not going as planned. They weren't meant to be that fast.

Of course, there was no alleyway with a clear path in sight. They all had dead ends and that was the last thing he wanted. He wanted, no needed, somewhere do disappear. Preferably with things to hide behind. This was LA, for crying out loud, all alleys and side streets should be like that.

The pants had given way to gasps and a stitch throbbed in his side, pulsating with every step. He was beginning to slow down. He could hear the guys' voices getting louder and louder. This was definitely not good. He didn't want to die and get beat up as a homeless person of all things. What could he do? What could he do?

Deeks scrabbled in his pockets, hoping that he'd come across something he could throw at them. If he hit even one of them, he'd have a much better chance. He hissed; his fingers had slipped against something sharp. Yanking it out of his pocket, thankfully noting that there was no blood on his hand, he was about to throw it away when a thought struck him.

It wasn't exactly the _best _of ideas but, to be a very bad cliché, it was so crazy, it might just work.

He spun around to face his pursuers, letting them get close. It didn't take long; they had been hot on his heels. He just had to wait for _just _the right moment…

"Hey, you!" one of them called out as they barrelled towards him.

Deeks pulled the balloons down closer to him.

"We've nearly got him!" the other shouted.

They were close enough that he could see the sweat shining on their faces. Ew. Just a few more steps…

As soon as he was in their grabbing distance, Deeks tugged the balloons in front of them and slashed the piece of metal across them. Instantly, they popped with an impressively loud 'BANG', startling all three of them.

Deeks didn't let that distract him and he took off with the mini-explosion still ringing in his ears, which didn't completely cover the sound of loud swearing from the other two. It wasn't until he could turn around a corner that he allowed his lips to curve into a triumphant smile.


	9. An Interruption: In Astonishment

Present Day:

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam exclaimed, holding his hands in the air to stop Deeks talking. "You mean to say that you used the balloons to as a _weapon_?"

The older agent sounded vaguely impressed, Deeks couldn't help but swell with pride at that.

"Yep," he said smugly.

"I can't believe that worked," Callen said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, it did. Quite well in fact."

"I suppose it was disorientating enough and you don't really need that big a window to get out of range," Kensi said only slightly doubtfully with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"_Exactly_. I just needed them to be distracted enough to get myself around the nearest corner without them seeing me!" Deeks said excitedly, remembering the adrenaline that pumped through him.

It had been the first time he'd felt that out in the field. That fear of your cover nearly being blown only for things to go miraculously right at _just _the right moments so that you got out of there relatively safe. It really had been exhilarating. If only he had known back then how often he'd have that feeling course through him in the coming years. It had almost become comforting. Something that was reliable which is a bit sad but what could you do?

"But _balloons_, really?" Nell asked disbelievingly.

"Yep."

"How on earth did you put _that _in a report?" Kensi asked, leaning in his direction.

"More to the point, did Bates accept it?" Sam added.

"Just put down exactly what happened," Deeks replied with a shrug. "What else could I do? And, um, Bates took a little persuading."

"I'll bet he did," Callen muttered.

Actually, it had taken more time to wait for Bates to stop laughing at it. He supposed it was funny, especially when Deeks had presented him with the evidence of two pieces of string with tattered bits of balloons still attached to the other ends. It wasn't exactly what you'd expect from the results of a surveillance operation, no matter how informal it may be. They'd even gone in the evidence log and he'd been made to write out a full report on how he had required them. He swore that that was still circulated for new recruits. His small claim to fame.

"Balloons are now definitely up there for credible distraction techniques," Callen commented.

"Not as weird as when you used that goldfish," Sam told his partner.

"What about Callen and a goldfish?" Kensi asked, ears perking up in anticipation of another funny story.

"Nothing," the team lead insisted.

"Later," Sam mouthed.

"Never," Callen said stubbornly.

"That wasn't the _only _use of those balloons," Deeks tried to say mysteriously as his wiggled his eyebrows.

Kensi threw a scrunched-up wrapper at him, it hit him right on the nose.

"Ow!" he whined, rubbing at the afflicted appendage. "That hurt."

"Baby," Kensi scoffed.

"Want her to kiss it better," Sam mocked.

"Oh, definitely," Deeks said turning to give his partner a pathetic look.

The look he got in return decidedly said that he was _not _getting a kiss any time soon. Pity.

"Well?" Callen asked with a put-upon sigh as Deeks didn't volunteer any more information.

"Well, what?" he asked a little too innocently.

The things he got thrown at him didn't all come from Kensi this time.

"Hey!"

"Tell us what the other uses of the balloons were," Sam demanded.

"Not if you're going to be like that," Deeks replied, folding his arms.

Sam raised his eyebrow.

Deeks broke seconds later.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll tell you," he said quickly as they all snickered. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you big bullies."

"You're the one dragging things out," Eric pointed out.

"Unnecessarily," Nell added. "Like Dumbledore in _'The Halfblood Prince_'." Everyone gave her a blank look. "What? He did take too long to show Harry a handful of memories," she complained. Eric patted her comfortingly on the shoulder, he knew how frustrated she got about this.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Callen said airily.

"I agree with Nell," Sam said with a thoughtful expression. "The man definitely had no skill in accurately and quickly sharing information."

"Thank you!" Nell exclaimed, glad to have someone finally understand where she was coming from.

"Now a _really _don't want to know," Kensi said, turning back to her partner. "Can we get back to Deeks' story skills and not J.K Rowling's?"

"My story skills are great," Deeks defended.

"Not with the way you are dragging things out!"

"Seriously, you guys have no chill," Deeks complained. "It will come up at its proper point in the story."

"We're federal agents that specialise in undercover operations," Callen pointed out. "We're the definition of chill"

"Could we get to its point in the story a little faster?" Sam requested in way that definitely implied that it wasn't a request.

"Well, you guys _still _insist on interrupting me!" Several growls were directed at him. "But I'll pick up the pace. I'll pick up the pace."

"There's an idea," Sam said sarcastically.


	10. The Escape

Deeks ran and ran until his lungs burned with the effort it took to breath. He skidded around a corner before coming to a halt. Hopefully they would just run past him like they did in the movies. He held his breath so he wouldn't give himself away but no one came thundering past. Were they lying in wait for him? He wouldn't have thought that they were that intelligent but you know what they said about assuming and Martin Deeks was in no way an ass. Not at all. Which meant he also wasn't going to poke his head around the corner. That was just stupid.

Instead, he gave it a minute. The thugs looked like the impatient type; they wouldn't be able to wait for long. Nope. Nobody came a-threatening. Only now did he let himself release the breath in his straining lungs. The force of the release of air made him double over as it came out in gasps.

"Are you okay, young man?"

That voice sounded familiar. Deeks brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked up. Yep, it was the little old woman. He straightened and shot her a smile he hoped didn't look _too_ pained.

"I'm fine, ma'am," Deeks told her, coughing and purposefully making his voice sound hoarse.

Hopefully she wouldn't recognise him. Though that would be quite impressive considering his disguise.

"Do you need any help?"

He just shook his head, not trusting himself to talk coherently just at this moment. It still hurt to breath and his side ached horribly. She gave him an unconvinced look.

"I'm okay," he repeated, not wanting to come across as mean but wanting her to leave him alone.

"You're not in any trouble?"

Now he felt bad, she actually sounded concerned for him. What was she doing in an area like this?

"No."

"Because I can get the police if you want. They are very nice men."

Deeks almost snorted at that. No one at the precinct took any notice of the homeless unless they started something. Certainly no one cared. Not enough to help anyway. Not that they could help much except point them towards the nearest shelter. Also, if he was led back to LAPD by this woman, he'd never hear the end of it. Especially not by Bates. No. Definitely no police.

"I'll be fine."

She squinted at him. "Do I know you?"

"I ain't from round here," he answered.

"Hmm," the woman gave him a critical look before nodding and grabbing his hand. "I suppose not or you'd know this is one of those _drug_ areas, you know."

"Oh?" he tried to look shocked as her tone implied that she thought that she was passing on important information.

She'd grabbed his other hand now, Deeks hoped she wasn't going to pray over him or something, and nodded fervently, "Oh yes. Especially for that nasty Wilkes fellow. You probably haven't met him but if you hang around here you will and you don't want that," she wittered at him, giving his hands a squeeze. "Those people he meets every other Thursday look like they could be nasty."

His ears perked up at that information. It confirmed what he had thought, Wilkes obviously did most of his 'business' here. And if he's always around that meant it was for more than basic drug dealing. He probably reported to the people LAPD really wanted to bust.

"I'll be careful," Deeks assured the old woman.

"You do that, dearie," and with that the woman was shuffling away down the street.

It wasn't long before she went around the corner and was out of sight. Deeks breathed a sigh of relief. He knew it was ridiculous but he was sure that she might recognise him. Call it paranoia but this was the first case that he'd tried to pull its sort of thing and he wanted it to go well. And it was, he knew where a fair amount of drug deals went down _and_, most importantly, he found out that Wilkes touched base here every two weeks. Okay, that information was basically handed to him but Deeks knew better than to refuse a silver platter.

He clenched his fist to run it across his forehead, this hat was _itchy_ and something crunched in his hand. What the-? Opening his hand, Deeks tried to contain a gasp. It was a fifty? That little old lady managed to slip him a _fifty_? He was touched but also felt guilty. He didn't _need_ the money. Not like she thought he did. It could have gone to someone more deserving. What did he do with it anyway? Handing in to the department was definitely not the way to go, it would just 'disappear'. No. It was better to pocket it he supposed. No, he'd donate it to the homeless shelter - he bet that they could always use the money and it was kind of going towards the reason the woman gave to him. Yep, Deeks nodded resolutely, that's what he would do. But where to put it in the meantime? None of his current get up had pockets and he couldn't very well carry it. He compromised by stuffing it in his shoe though it was quite uncomfortable.

That taken care of, Deeks took the opportunity to scan the area. He didn't think the knuckle heads would come back, they seemed to be the type to burn out fast either by pounding someone or chasing someone. Judging by the intelligence, or rather _lack_ of it, displayed they had probably forgotten who they were chasing when they lost sight of him. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. Getting beat up was never fun. There weren't many people around, it was the middle of the day after all, but there were a few trailing about. Obviously, they weren't the type to care very much as his being chased for several blocks hadn't garnered any attention at all. What did that say about this place?

Debating whether he should finish up the day or continue with his slouching about, Deeks noticed the bald guy - what was his name? - come stomping down the road.

You know what? He could do this again tomorrow he quickly decided and ducked down an alley.


	11. The Fast Forward

"What the hell?"

Callen's exclamation appeared to be reflected in each of his team mates faces, who all seemed to be beyond words right now. Deeks would usually point out the hilarity of the quietest member of the team being the one to do all the exclaiming but felt that that wouldn't exactly be wise at this moment. Though he didn't know how to reply either except for shooting him a grin. How many of _them_ had used balloons to escape?

"A balloon," Kensi stated slowly in disbelief.

"_Several_ balloons," Deeks corrected and gave her a mock scolding look. "One balloon wouldn't have given me nearly enough of an explosion."

"It probably would have," Eric piped up, frowning. "Those things make a _big_ bang."

Nell nodded sympathetically at him as everyone else gave him questioning looks.

"I didn't _mean_ to burst one," he said quickly.

As one, they all decided that they probably didn't want to know.

"I think he beats your second-best distraction technique, G. After the goldfish, of course" Sam said, slapping his partner on the back. The man just rolled his eyes at Sam.

"That wasn't unusual."

"Sure, G. Because anyone would have thought of that."

"They would."

Shaking his head, Sam gave the rest of the team a pointed look. Deeks perked up at this little exchange, maybe they'd get at least one story out of Callen.

"Oh, what did you do?"

"Nothing," Callen answered briskly.

Or maybe not.

"Apples," Sam said, apparently not feeling the need to cover up this story. Made him wonder what the goldfish thing was.

"Apples?" Kensi replied questioningly.

"Apples," Sam confirmed with a solemn nod.

"Did you up end a cart of them or something?" Eric asked, leaning back onto Sam's desk only to be glared back to an upright position.

"Not exactly original," Nell said critically.

"He juiced them and sprayed our suspect with the juice," Sam told them.

"It worked," Callen protested.

"Sounds very... sticky," Kensi said, scrunching up her nose.

"Took days to get rid of the wasps in the boat shed."

"Ouch."

"He started smelling fermented quite quickly," Sam reminisced, shaking his head.

"I managed that with a carton of apple juice once," said Kensi, pulling a disgusted face. "It tasted like nasty cider."

"You _tasted_ it?" Nell asked incredulously.

"I was curious!"

"I, for one, am unsurprised if this happened in your apartment," Deeks told his partner, pulling a disgusted face of his own. "Who knows how long ago that it was juice."

Kensi threw a wad of paper at him that he easily dodged.

"But again, with the interruptions," complained Deeks, drumming his fingers on his desk and wanting to avoid injury "I thought you wanted me to pick up the pace?"

"We do," Kensi told him.

"We're just savouring the balloons," Nell added.

Sam leaned back in his chair, "What are you waiting for?"

"An invitation," Deeks replied cheekily. The older man gave him a warning look which made him quickly add, "But yes, continuing. Um, where was I?"

"Panting from being chased," supplied Nell.

"You said you had to persuade Bates about how you got away."

"Oh yeah..."

* * *

Bates held two pieces of string between his fingers and raised his eyebrows.

"What the hell is this, Deeks?"

"Those are pieces of string, sir," Deeks replied.

"I can see that, _Detective_. Why am I holding them?"

"They're how I got away," he replied simply. "I didn't know whether or not it needed to be logged or something. Does it count as evidence?"

Deeks had thought that regular police work generated a need for a lot of pointless paperwork. Normal duty had _nothing_ on undercover operations. He'd never had to fill out so many forms and wrote up so many reports. He was seriously considering filing an injury complaint, his wrist ached just thinking about the reports he was going to have to write.

Bates looked like he was going to regret what he was about to ask but asked anyway, "How did _string_ help you get away?"

"It's not just string," Deeks said in an affronted tone. "They were balloons."

"Balloons," came the disbelieving response.

Deeks grabbed the ends of the dangling strings and lifted them up to show his superior. "See? Bits of balloon."

"Burst balloons helped you get away," Bates stated slowly, still in a disbelieving tone.

"Well, I did burst them in their faces..."

"You burst them in-?"

"They make a _really_ loud bang," Deeks informed him quite seriously, rubbing his ears and wincing in remembrance.

Bates gave him a long look and then his lips twitched. Deeks frowned at him in puzzlement. Did he just see that? Another twitch, this time both corners of the man's mouth. Was he going to-? A burst of laughter escaped his boss making Deeks jump. The man laughed long and hard, enough for tears to come to his eyes. Deeks couldn't help but laugh with him. He supposed it was a pretty funny excuse.

"Well, that explains the reports of gunshots in that area," Bates told him as he eventually regained control of himself. "I thought you'd blown your cover or something."

"I'm not _that_ green," Deeks said, feeling insulted.

"No, you just picked a fight with the local druggies."

"I'm was just _standing_ there."

Bates rolled his eyes at him.

"They weren't expecting the balloons though," Deeks said with a grin.

"I don't want to even know what was going through your head when you grabbed them," Bates informed him. "Where did you even get them anyway?"

"Stole 'em off a clown," Deeks replied nonchalantly with a shrug as if was the most natural thing in the world to do.

"You stole them off a-?" Bates flung the string and dead balloons across the table, burying his face in his hands. "Just go, Deeks."

"Are you sure? I can give you a demonstration and-"

A finger pointed towards the door. "Go."

"Going."

"And, Deeks?" Bates looked up from his desk.

Deeks turned around to face him again. "Yes, sir?"

"Get out of that get up. You're stinking up the joint."

**AN: Hey guys, thank you so much to all who have read and reviewed so far. I've finally finished writing all the chapters for this (this chapter is just beyond half way) which means that soon I'll have another slot for a new fanfiction. Please vote on the poll on my profile for what fandom you'd like to see me writing for next. Thank you!**


	12. The Warehouse

It had been a week or so since his somewhat successful scouting job and he was kind of getting into the swing of things. Turn up at the precinct every other day to prove he was still alive, look suspicious in his assigned area so it looked like he was actually drug dealing (while handing the drugs he was given back to LAPD), hand Wilkes over some money every now and then to prove he was useful (ish) and repeat. Strangely, he hadn't seen the street clown since that first incident. Probably didn't want his balloons snatched again. Pity, the guy had been something cheerful on this run-down road. On the other hand, he _had_ seen the little old lady several times. Deeks had made sure not to draw attention to himself, he didn't need her becoming close to him and getting in trouble because of it. That would just be awful. He didn't need that on his conscience.

The whole thing was getting pretty monotonous, truth be told. That was one thing that they didn't tell you about during training, the amount of time you'd just be waiting for something to happen. It made him feel all twitchy, Deeks needed to be _doing_ something. How people did stake outs for so long, he'd never know. This job allowed him to move around more than being trapped in a car and it was still driving him insane. Maybe it was because he knew what he was starting to refer as 'The Big Boss Meeting' was happening today. Things were going to pick up and get a lot more serious from here. He just hoped that they had enough evidence on this guy for him to be able to legally bust him. Deeks had seen far too many cases be thrown out because of shoddily looked after evidence. Apparently, evidence contamination was some people's speciality. No, he still wasn't bitter about that _at all_.

At least he wasn't decked out in his homeless garb, nope, just regular 'Tim'. It was far too hot for all the layers he had put together for that character. LA was experiencing something of a heatwave according to the news. Though when was this city not? It was better than the downpour they got a few days ago. He _still_ felt soggy from that. Probably because he hadn't let the jacket he was currently wearing dry out properly. It was a nice jacket, okay? Perfect for Tim, just not exactly waterproof.

"Hey, Timmy-boy!" came a shout, jerking him out of his thoughts.

He still wasn't quite used to being called that but he looked up with only a moment's hesitation. It was Wilkes.

"Hey, man," Deeks greeted with a wave as the man approached.

"I have a treat for you, Tim," Wilkes announced, draping his arm over Deeks' shoulders.

Deeks swore he could feel oil oozing through his clothes and resisted his automatic instinct to throw the guy off him. Too close. Hadn't the man heard of the term 'personal bubble'?

"Oh, good," he tried to say enthusiastically, barring his teeth I'm some semblance of a grin.

He didn't think he succeeded in it but it was okay, 'Wilkes' wasn't exactly looking at his face. The man was too busy dragging him along the pavement to-

A car. A very nice looking, _shiny_ car. It almost had as much wax on it as Wilkes' hair.

"You're letting me ride it your Ferrari?" Deeks put on a higher, breathy voice. Not entirely faked, he was loath to admit. It was a _nice_ car. Wilkes patted the side of it affectionately.

"She's a beaut, ain't she?"

"Definitely."

The two men stood by it, just admiring it. Wilkes soon got fed up though and gave him a shove towards the door.

"Get in. I have something to show you."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"What about my beat? I've got customers-"

Well, more like undercover LAPD but that little detail wasn't important. And Tim was the type of guy who cared about a job well done.

"Not as important as this," Wilkes told him, turning the key in the ignition and letting his car roar to life.

"Wow."

Wilkes smirked in satisfaction and turned on the cd player. "Jealous?"

"Hell yeah."

Drugs apparently did pay well.

Wilkes smirk got broader as horrible rap music suddenly blared loudly as he took off in a squeal of tyres. Deeks flinched from the sudden blast of noise and the way his body was flung backwards from the sudden momentum. Ouch.

They drove for about twenty-five minutes, every minute taking them further and further away from houses. The standard and appearance of said houses got worse and worse until they just trailed off and they were in industrial territory.

"This us?" Deeks asked, not being able to stand the silence anymore (if the horrible music Wilkes was playing counted as silence).

Wilkes stopped his singing, but not his incessant beat-boxing on the steering wheel, to answer, "Not yet, my man. None of these piddly things."

Deeks had to raise an eyebrow at that. Did he really just say 'piddly'?

"We've got something much more impressive," he continued. "Needs a _lot_ of space."

"Doesn't that mean you stand out?" Deeks felt that Tim would ask.

That got him a snort and a head shake, his hair didn't move. "Nah, the whole place is gang territory. LAPD don't _dare_ come here."

Because they weren't aware of it. The gangs had really managed to keep this on the down low. Impressive, considering the number of members LAPD suspected they had.

The car came to a stop in front of some old wore fencing and rusted oil barrels.

"This us now?"

That made Wilkes amused. Good. Let him think he's some green kid. It would make this all the easier.

"Impatient, are we?" Wilkes teased, motioning him to get out the car. "Nah, the big guys don't like cars beyond this point."

"Security?" Deeks asked as the car flashed with its lock.

"Duh," Wilkes snorted, shoving some of the fencing to the side. "Follow me."

Yes. Because he was really going to stand by the car. Rolling his eyes, Deeks followed. He'd let Wilkes have his 'show off to the newbie' moment, he was more likely going to let things slip that way.

So, they darted across the abandoned industrial part, Wilkes insisting they do it like bad spies in the old movies; ducking behind crates and husks of cars. Deeks tried not to let his impatience show. It paid off as they were soon by some side doors of a _very_ large warehouse.

Deeks whistled as he looked at it up and down. Wilkes certainly wasn't exaggerating about the size. It could fit at least two normal sized warehouses in here.

Wilkes put his fingers to his lips, indicating that Deeks should stand behind him. He did just that, taking careful and subtle stock of his surroundings as Wilkes lifted his fist and-

**AN: Don't forget to vote on the poll on my profile for what fandom you want me to write next for! Thanks for reading!**


	13. An Interruption: In Thirst

Everyone looked at their liaison expectantly as he stopped in mid-sentence. Deeks grinned at then as they practically leaned forwards in their eagerness. It was very amusing.

"Well? What happened?" Kensi asked impatiently.

"Can't leave us hanging like that," Eric complained.

"Not cool," Nell agreed.

Sam had his arms folded and an eyebrow raised in his best intimating stance and Callen was just staring expectantly at him. Privately, Deeks was shocked that the man actually voiced his irritation in the first place.

"I'm thirsty," Deeks announced, unable to stop himself smirking.

"Deeks!"

He mock-winced as all five of them scolded him. Oh, it was _fun_ to wind them up. He didn't usually get a chance to do this, they all had different tolerance levels and triggers for his nonsense so it was difficult to wind them all up at once. This was just perfect in his opinion. They couldn't retaliate because they _needed_ to hear the rest of the story and they couldn't just walk off for the same reason. He had their full attention either way so it was a win-win for him.

"All this story-telling is thirsty work," he told them, shooting them an innocent look as he moved behind his desk to grab his water bottle.

And it was. He was genuinely thirsty but probably didn't need to bring the whole story to a halt over it but he couldn't resist the opportunity to push a few buttons. He hadn't done that today after all. Twirling the cap open with a flourish, wanting to show off, he yelped as it shot out of his hand and rolled across the floor. Whoops. That wasn't meant to happen.

"Just drink your water!" Kensi exclaimed.

"But I need the cap!"

"Last I checked, the cap prevented you from drinking water," Callen pointed out.

"But if I don't have the cap, I can't reseal the bottle," Deeks complained. "And dirt might get into it and it will go all stale and nasty."

"It does that anyway of you leave your water for long enough. Cap or not. " said Nell.

"But it happens faster," Deeks whined. It was a legitimate problem.

Sam scanned the floor and managed to find it quickly. "Here," he said, thrusting the bit of plastic in his face. "Now drink up before I make you."

"I'm pretty sure that counts as some form of workplace harassment," Callen said, turning to his partner.

"Or torture," Deeks felt the need to point out. "Both of which are frowned on in a professional working environment."

"Can we really be counted as one of those?" Kensi joked.

"Drink." Sam instructed in a very drill sergeant voice.

Deeks did as he was told. You didn't argue with that tone. In fact, he followed the order a little too well and swallowed too much water at once, making him splutter. That at least stopped their aggressive stances as they leapt out of the way in order to not get sprayed.

"Deeks!" Kensi complained.

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Drink more slowly," Sam instructed.

He decided to do just that. He was feeling a little parched after all.

"Ah, that's some good water," Deeks announced, swallowing the cool liquid.

"You done?" Sam asked impatiently.

Deeks held up a finger as he took another swig of it much to the iteration of everyone else. His partner made that adorable annoyed noise of hers and Sam eyed him in a way that implied he either wanted to crush his water bottle or Deeks' head. He'd prefer it _not_ to be his head so he hurriedly put the bottle down.

"Hey, hydration is important!" He announced to his decidedly unimpressed audience.

"That it is Mr Deeks."

Everyone jumped at the sound of Hetty's voice. Seriously, how did she move around without making any noise whatsoever? Deeks supposed her height (or lack of it) gave her an advantage. They really should be used to her doing it by now. She certainly managed to do it often enough. He swore that found amusement in doing it.

"Hey, Hetty," Callen greeted unnecessarily.

"Hay is for horses, Mr Callen, of which neither I nor you are."

They all had to try and conceal an eye roll at that statement. That was such a _parent_ thing to say it was almost ridiculous.

"Well, good day Hetty. How are you this fine day?"

Deeks didn't know how Callen managed to say that without coming across as sarcastic but he did. Almost sounded genuine too.

"Oh, I've been better. But also, worse," Hetty told him, peering at him from over her glasses. "Would you like to know why?"

Callen leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure you're going to tell us."

"You know what else is important?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "Doing your jobs."

"Ah." Callen said eloquently. "Those."

Hetty did not look amused. "Yes, Mr Callen. You know, what the federal government pays you to do?"

"What if said agents didn't have any active jobs to do?"

"I'd say that there is _always_ a job to do in our occupation."

"I assume that is a hint?" he asked innocently.

"A kick in the derriere, more like."

Everyone sighed heavily, even Deeks. He didn't like paperwork anymore than the rest of them _and_, despite his teasing, he had been in a good flow. It was just getting to the good parts too!

"Yes, I'm afraid that you'll have to swap tales of old cases for making tales of new cases."

They all muttered some form of assent and made their way back to their desks, Eric and Nell heading back up to Ops. Hetty nodded approvingly and made her way to her office.

"Oh, and Mr Deeks?" Hetty said over her shoulder, back still firmly to them.

"Yes, Hetty?"

She turned to face them again, a faint smile on her face as she instructed, "Don't forgot about the windows."

"The windows. Yeah, don't worry, I won't," he assured her as she walked off. Then he realised what she just said and jerked his head in her direction. "Wait, how did you know-?"

"Work, Mr Deeks."


	14. The Drug Den

**AN: I just wanted to thank /u/Amarantheine for reviewing as I can't PM you. Glad you're enjoying the story. Also, thank you to everyone else who has read and/or reviewed so far!**

A shadow fell across his desk, or rather, multiple shadows. Deeks looked up to see his three other team members looming over him. He gave them a grin.

"Hey guys," he said cheerfully, deliberately being obtuse to why they were there.

All of them had folded arms and expectant looks on their faces.

"We having a party?"

That was Eric, coming down the stairs from Ops with Nell right by his side. They had their bags over their shoulders and satisfied looks on their faces. Looks like some people were done for the day.

"Oh, are we doing this now?" Nell asked, taking in the scene in front of them as they hit the bottom of the stairs.

Deeks leaned in a way so he could peer around the wall of his team to look at her in confusion. "Doing what now? Are we doing something?"

"Yes. You are," Kensi told him.

He feigned surprise. Badly. "I am?"

"You done?" Sam asked bluntly, obviously not wanting to play along but knowing better than to delay getting paperwork to Hetty.

The man seemed to be asking an awful lot of clipped questions today. Not that that was Deeks' fault. Nope. Not at all. Deeks looked pointedly down at his desk with a thoughtful look. His piles of paperwork were in neat, little stacks. He shot a look of disgust in the direction of Kensi's desk (his team was still blocking his view), unlike his partner's. He really didn't know how she did any work effectively. Okay, he _was_ done for today (thankfully) but, he checked the looks on their faces. Not _quite_ homicidal yet. So, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms, the smile never leaving his face.

"Oh, I don't know. I might take this chance to get a little ahead. You know, keep on top of things. Be proactive."

And keep Hetty off his back for longer when it came to paperwork, that was a noble and practical thing to think about - right? No one was looking very impressed with his reasoning. If anything, they looked a little _more_ peeved than they had previously. Not good.

"You're done," Sam decided, forcibly pulling Deeks and his chair backwards and away from his desk. Deeks supposed that he was done now.

"All right, all right," Deeks said, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm done."

"Yay, story time!" Eric cheered, putting his bag on the floor and perching himself on Kensi's desk, knocking a few things off. "Oops."

"Hey!" Kensi complained, striding over.

"I can fix it!" Eric said, scrabbling on the floor for God-knows-what.

"I don't think anything can fix that desk," Deeks muttered.

Sam snorted. "A bomb, maybe?"

With several pained yelps from Eric, everyone was soon settled in their earlier positions, waiting for him. They really were quite intimidating the way they could stare without blinking.

"So, where was I?" He scratched his chin for dramatic effect. Wow, he really did need to shave.

"Knocking on the door," Nell supplied. "Or, Wilkes was about to."

* * *

Wilkes gave the door three ringing knocks, Deeks winced. If you were doing something _incredibly_ illegal, like, he didn't know, a drug trafficking ring, wouldn't you be a bit more subtle about the whole thing? Wilkes really was a cocky son-of-a-bitch.

On that note, Deeks furtively looked around the area again, for a massive, alleged, drug trafficking operation going on there was very little security. Noticeable that was. He supposed there had to be people that he couldn't see, right? And cameras? They wouldn't be that stupid. Right? Though, it would make his job an awful lot easier.

The door opened a crack, only a mouth visible -the rest of the guy's face in the shadows. These guys really did watch too many old movies.

"Bordesley?" A hoarse voice asked.

Deeks' ears perked up at that. That had to be Wilkes' real name. Bates never told him, said it was better for his cover if he didn't know. No mistakes that way. A fair point even if it was annoying.

"Tarland," Wilkes grunted (or was that Bordesley now?).

"You're early."

Wilkes (Deeks couldn't think of him as anything else) shrugged and nodded at Deeks. "I got some business to deal with."

The door opened wider to a tall, incredibly skinny man with a large nose. Deeks stood up a bit taller under his penetrating gaze. This guy obviously took no crap.

"Who's this?"

"Guy of mine."

Deeks got a critical look up and down. Tarland didn't look very impressed.

"He any good?"

"Getting there."

"I catch on fast," Deeks felt the urge to say. Tim was a pretty eager for affirmation dude after all.

Tarland still didn't look too impressed.

"I think we'd have good use for him," Wilkes said quickly, obviously sensing it too.

Deeks gave him a dubious look. That didn't sound too promising.

Tarland cocked his head to one side.

"The boss man know?"

"Uh."

Deeks took that as a _no_. Great. Just great. The heads of operations like these were normally suspicious, paranoid and trigger-happy. A really _great_ combination. Deeks could say with some confidence that he was _not_ going to be happy with 'Tim' being here.

"Look, he'll do what he's told and stay out of ten way," Wilkes assured Tarland and then turned to Deeks with a threatening look on his face. "Right?"

Deeks nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir!" He even gave a small salute.

Tarland snorted. "He better," he said threateningly.

A few beats of silence passed with the two men eye each other before they both nodded.

"Get in here," Tarland grunted. "And touch _nothing_."

Deeks gulped, hesitating for just a moment before crossing the threshold. Immediately, the door clanged decisively shut behind him and Tarland locked it.

He was in.


	15. The Sinking Feeling

Deeks tried to strike a balance between looking on in awe and looking on in fear as he recognised some passing faces as _incredibly dangerous_ main instigators of unresolved crimes, mainly due to said instigators _killing_ everyone involved. He had a healthy dose of both would be good but admittedly more fear as he followed Wilkes about his 'Kingdom'. If you counted the literal underworld of south LA as a Kingdom. And, if truth be told, it wasn't exactly Wilkes' Kingdom. He was just lackey, a front, someone to take the blame when things went south as they invariably did. Of course, Wilkes didn't know this and 'Tim' definitely shouldn't.

He couldn't stop his head from swivelling around as he was walked through, at least it kept him in character. There was just _so much_ going on. So many people, noises and smells condensed into one area. He would have thought that with the size this warehouse, really the size of two, that it would be impossible to fill but he was wrong. Oh boy he was wrong.

He was sure his eyes were popping out of his head but he really couldn't bring himself to care. This was big. Very big. As in, there was no way that LAPD should be responsible for this big. Sure, they were keeping the DEA updated on this case - well, that's what Bates told him - but there was no way that the FBI _shouldn't_ be involved.

Great. What on earth had he managed to get himself into? He honestly thought that he'd feel more pride actually getting _into_ this place, especially considering how green he was to this type of work. It was a massive feather in his cap after all. But now, upon actually getting in, Deeks was feeling a lot less sure of himself.

* * *

Present Day

"Hold up," Sam interrupted, narrowing his eyes at Deeks. "Where's your backup?"

"Backup?" Deeks repeated, rubbing the back of his head.

"You know, the people who are meant to be on standby when you know somethings going to go down?"

The EX-SEAL had folded his arms and was looking at him expectantly. Deeks knew none of them were going to like the answer he was going to give but maybe he could spin it in a slightly better light.

"I know what it _is_," he replied with an eye roll.

"So where was yours?"

"Uh, not there?"

Honestly, did they think that he'd leave that out of the story if it was there? That would be a pretty important plot device. Now they were all giving him looks of disbelief.

"Look, guys..." he said in a sigh. He didn't know how nor want to explain how he had felt about the whole situation.

Kensi stood up and slipped her arm around him. He tugged her closer just to feel her comforting weight against him.

"Do you realise how wrong that was?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, _now_. I was a bit green to the job then. I thought it was normal," he explained and then repeated, "I know better now."

Or, more correctly, since he came here. Until then he had just accepted that that was how the LAPD worked for him.

Sam muttered a few choice words about LAPD, none of them suitable for polite company - or any sort of company really.

"Talk about setting a bad precedent," Callen stated, seemingly mildly but everyone could hear the steel behind his tone.

Desperately wanting to move on from the topic of how LAPD treated him, there had been enough of that in recent weeks, Deeks playfully said, "Who were the ones complaining about interruptions?"

Of course, they knew exactly what he was doing (this was _his team_ after all) but they let him do it. With a few grumbles and eye rolls, obviously. Couldn't let him think that he'd completely get his own way.

* * *

"So, who is this 'boss man' of yours?" he asked Wilkes as they made their way through the maze of the warehouse.

There didn't seem to be any organisation to this at all. Crates and broken-down machinery everywhere, like they didn't empty the warehouse when they took it over. Rickety tables with what had to be dubious dealings going on and the whole place had a haze to it that was definitely not safe. Deeks really hoped no one smoked.

"No one you need to concern yourself with," Wilkes told him gruffly. "You don't matter," he added.

Ouch. He just _had_ to twist the knife on that wound, didn't he?

There was more winding and nearly knocking into people before they came to a completely closed off space. Wilkes put his finger to his lips and knocked four times hard and two times softly. Nice and old school.

"Come in."

Was it just him or did everyone who was involved in this sound like your stereotypical, slimy, underworld criminal?

And looked like it too, apparently. The 'big boss man' was, quite literally, big. Like, muscle-, the-width-of-my-shoulders-fits-three-people big. With a balding head, the straggly hair slicked across it with a heck of a lot of grease. Was that a gold tooth?

"Uh, hi," Wilkes greeted, sounding nervous for the first time since Deeks had known him.

A suspicious look and a wave of the hand to indicate to the two heavy-set 'guards' to shut the door with a 'BANG'.

"What d'you want Bordesley? I told you not to come back."

Deeks really had to figure out how these guys always managed to find a way to sound bored and threatening at the same time. Though he supposed if you killed and maimed people for a living you could speak in high-pitched, happy tones and still sound threatening. Either way, Deeks felt uncomfortable with the way the man was looking at him.

"See, I just wanted to tell you of this thing I scored and I think it'll be a great deal and I know a guy and-"

"What's this boyo doing here?" 'Boss man' demanded, cutting Wilkes off.

Wilkes' face fell. This was not going how he wanted it to go by the looks of it. Deeds did not like to think what that meant for him.

"We don't need nobody new," the 'boss man' grunted, eyeing Deeks suspiciously.

Seriously, did anyone speak decent English in this place? Like, he knew a lot of them were uneducated yobs but _standards_.

"He does good work," Wilkes tried. That was nice of him. "Flogged us a load of the good stuff."

It didn't hold up with the big boss man, however.

"Nobody new."

"Look, man, I'll get out and won't come back," Deeks said quickly, hands held up in front of him as he started to back away.

'Click'

And, that was a gun in his face.

Brilliant.


	16. The Alarm

Dorothy Miller was going for her daily walk; it was really good to stretch your legs a bit even if you couldn't go very far. But as long as she still had her legs, she would do it. Nothing much stopped her.

She nodded to all those who she knew as she slowly made her way through the neighbourhood. It was a lot of people but her mind was still sharp even if her body wasn't so she remembered each and every one of them. Everyone seemed to appreciate it. It was amazing what remembering a name did.

She came to a sudden standstill and looked around her. Not seeing what she was expecting to, she frowned. Where was that nice, young man with the incredibly untidy hair? She'd seen him almost every day for the past few weeks. But he wasn't here now. That was worrying. This wasn't the best of places to go 'missing' in. It never ended up well.

Well, there was only one thing for it. Dorothy set her jaw and turned herself around to go down a different street than usual.

Those nice men in uniform should be able to help her.

* * *

Present Day

"Wait," Callen interrupted, holding his hand up and frowning. "How do you know all this?"

"Um, it kind of happened to me," Deeks retorted.

"But you weren't with her at that point. How do you know what she was doing?"

"That's a good point," Kensi added, looking a bit anxious. "You currently had a gun pointed at your face."

And she wasn't very appreciative of being left hanging on that point. He was her _partner_. Okay, at this point in the story he _wasn't_ and he was obviously alive and well right now but that didn't mean that she wasn't concerned for his wellbeing!

"Better not be more of your 'artistic license'," Sam grumbled.

"Nah," Deeks shook his head. "This all was in the report that I was given later and Bates filled me in on the interview she gave."

"So, there _is_ a good bit of artistic license," Sam said suspiciously.

Deeks shrugged. "All the facts are there and I'm not going to list it like bullet points. That ruins the _flow_."

"Right," Sam said sceptically. "Can you keep the _flow_-" he made inverted commas with his fingers, "-without doing it from an old lady's point of view?"

"It is a bit weird," Callen agreed.

"I'm just getting into character," Deeks informed them and then added smugly, "It's something I'm _very_ good at."

Kensi took this opportunity to roll her eyes, she hadn't done that in a while.

"We're _all_ good at getting into character," she retorted. "It's kind of our jobs."

"Then you should all appreciate what I'm trying to do here!"

"This better add something to the story," Sam threatened."

Her partner gave him an insulted look. "_Of course_, it adds something to the story."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to add that something now," Deeks said hurriedly.

* * *

"Ma'am, I said we'll look into it," Detective Jorsten told her in exasperation.

Dorothy scoffed at the rude young man, honestly, they let anyone into the Police Force these days. In _her_ day it was a place of privilege and honour. You did your job well. She eyed him up and down. Apparently, that wasn't the case anymore.

"I know what that means, young man," she scolded them. "I refuse to be passed along like some parcel."

"Then, what do you want me to do?"

She sniffed. There was really no need for him to take that tone with her. That was just _rude_.

"I want you to _do_ something for this young man."

"And we will, ma'am," he told her in an attempt at a soothing tone (it grated at her ears). "But you have to understand that that area has a particularly high number of homeless people and they don't hang about for long. He's probably left the area and is long gone."

A frustrated noise left her. Seriously? What were the standards for getting in here? They were obviously quite low if _this_ man was meant to be a 'fine example'.

"You aren't _listening_ to me _Detective Jorsten_," she poked a finger at his chest as he rolled his eyes at her, oh, he was asking for it now. "I told you. This man was _not_ homeless. I know the homeless of that area. I give them cookies-" cue another disrespectful eye roll, "-this man was definitely not one of them."

"Then he could have just been with friends and now he's back home!"

"And what if he's not?" she demanded.

"Jorsten!" Another man barked, giving her quite the fright. "Behave!"

The younger man jumped almost to attention.

"Yes, sir!"

The other man walked across the office and held out his hand for her to shake. "Lieutenant Bates, ma'am," he introduced himself. "I hope you're getting the help you require?"

She pursed her lips. "Not necessarily, I'm sorry to say Lieutenant."

He clapped a hand on the Detective's shoulder.

"I'm sure Detective Jorsten here will remedy that, _won't_ you, Detective?"

"Yes, sir," he grumbled.

"Good," Lieutenant Bates said brightly and then turned to her, "My office is right over there if you need further assistance, ma'am."

"Thank you," she said primly.

He nodded at then both and gave Detective Jorsten one last pointed stare before walking off.

As soon as the Lieutenant was out of sight Detective Jorsten took a deep breath and put his head in his hands. There was silence between them for a few seconds before he took a deep breath and looked at her again.

"Do you even have a name?"

"Well, no," she admitted, frowning. "Oh, I'm sure he told me it but my memory's not what it used to be."

"Description?"

"Oh, I'm not too good at that."

A groan escaped him. Dorothy frowned at him; it wasn't like he had done any work yet.

"Don't you have those cameras in the streets you could use?"


	17. The Realisation

"Well?" Bates asked, an amused expression on his face.

Jorsten glared at him as he approached his desk with a stack of papers.

"Seriously?" the Detective demanded.

"You know that we have to take all reports from the public seriously," Bates said mildly.

At the very least they had to give the appearance of doing something with each nonsensical request. Jorsten gave him a dirty look, complete with stink eye.

"I should at least be able to cut them short to stop the rambling," Jorsten stated, dumping the report he'd filled out onto Bates' desk.

Normally, they had the witness fill these out but by the looks of it Jorsten did not want to put himself through that. Bates didn't blame him; they'd probably get enough to fill a short book if the woman wrote the way she talked. He idly checked the pages, Jorsten was known for cutting corners.

"What was it all about anyway?"

This was LA, after all, there was a reasonably good chance she had seen an actual crime go down. Most of the times the public didn't (Bates would never get over how unobservant the average person was) and they just got basic complaints that they did nothing about. Sometimes they got a hilarious story though and his day had been kind of slow.

Jorsten made a dismissive gesture. "She was just going on about this shaggy-haired kid where we'vebeen picking up a lot of drug dealing activity. The low level stuff. Apparently, he's been there every day for weeks and he didn't show up today. Nothing overly exciting. She doesn't even talk to him."

Bates shook his head and chuckled as he gave the report back to Jorsten. At least that would be easy to file away.

Then a thought struck him.

"Wait, where did you say she was talking about?" Bates asked.

There was something familiar about that location, he just didn't know why. Maybe they had done a raid down there or something?

Jorsten repeated the address and Bates' stomach sank. He swore, making Jorsten jump. No, no, no, this could not be happening. Scrabbling around his desk for his badge and gun, Bates ran through all possible situations in his mind. If the kid was just messing around, he swore he'd go through him.

"Want to explain what's going on?" Jorsten asked snidely.

Bates was tempted to ignore him but realised that the guy could actually be of some help.

"_Deeks_ is undercover in that area," he replied, walking towards the door.

Jorsten gave him a dumbfounded look and shook his head.

"So that shaggy-haired guy that woman was talking about-?"

"Is Deeks," finished Bates. "Probably."

* * *

Deeks would really like to have a partner right about now. Or a whole hoard of back up. Or just to not be here. At all.

The gun was still pointed in his face. Or, more correctly, it was pointed straight at his forehead.

"Who are you?" the 'boss man's who still didn't have a name demanded.

"Look man, I'm nobody," he said quickly, stuttering over his words.

That was in no way put on, being one gunshot away from your death tended to make you lose control over your language capabilities.

"Nobody at all," Deeks repeated when the man's eyes squinted suspiciously and the gun was _not_ removed from his head. "Tell him, Wilkes."

Thankfully, that got the attention off of him. Not the gun but at least he was no longer being glared at.

"_Wilkes_. Really, Bordesley?" the boss man said with a snort which made his two goons laugh sycophantically.

Honestly, his life had turned into one of those old crime shows and it was really wearing thin. He didn't even have a cool hat. Or a cigar. Though he didn't want one of those. Nasty things. A hat would do.

Yes, he was babbling. In his head. Because he really needed to as doing so out loud was sure to have that gun lodge a bullet in his skull. And he _really_ wanted to avoid that. He rather liked living.

Wilkes was looking very uncomfortable but shrugged. "Was for security."

"You got nothing to need to be secure about," boss man sneered.

Bordesley/Wilkes looked like he wanted to complain but thankfully used the two brain cells he did have and didn't say anything. He did have a sullen look on his face. Hopefully that was less likely to get him shot. The second last thing Deeks wanted was blood splatter and brain matter all over him. Not being killed himself being the first thing of course.

"It's a stupid name" the boss man needled a bit more and then brought his attention back to Deeks. Fantastic. "Why did you bring him."

"I told you, man," Bordesley all but whined.

Deeks could almost imagine him stomping his feet. But seriously? Whining? At a guy who very obviously had no compunction against killing both of them? It was official. Clams were smarter than the guy.

"Want to try that again?" came the growl.

Yes. Yes, he would like to try that again. Or, even better, Deeks would very much like him to _not talk_.

Bordesley finally seemed to understand that he was in deep shit. An actual look of revelation actually appeared on his face.

"Look, man... sir," at least he was trying to show respect. "I was telling you the truth. I thought my guy here could he useful. He was showing some promise, you know? I was trying to show some initiative."

Deeks felt oddly flattered that he was held in such high regard by this crook who seemed to only thing of himself. He quickly stomped that feeling down, realising that Bordesley was probably just trying to save his own skin.

"You don't show no initiative, Bordesley," boss man said in a dangerous tone. "You follow orders."

That got both Deeks and Bordesley gulping. This was not looking good for either of them now. Well, it hadn't been in the first place but now it was quite obvious that this man would _definitely_ not listen to reason.

There was a scuffling noise from outside and the sound of rushing feet. Shouts were heard through the door, drawing everyone's attention to it. Deeks felt like he couldn't breath as he fought to keep all emotions off his face. Could it be?

"LAPD, freeze!"

"Don't move!"


	18. An Interruption: In Suspense

Deeks trailed off and frowned. Everyone made noises of dismay and frustration. Nell even lobbed a scrunched-up piece of paper at him. He ducked, letting it hit Kensi which was definitely a mistake as she sent him a murderous look.

"Come on, man, don't leave us hanging!" Eric complained, literally on the edge of his seat. He looked like he needed to go to the bathroom.

"I swear, if there's one more dramatic pause," Sam warned.

Seriously, for specialised, undercover agents these guys really had no patience. It was just a story and it had already happened. He was very obviously alive and well so no big deal, right? There was absolutely no need for all of this concern. Deeks honestly appreciated their protective tendencies but this was a bit much. He hoped that his unimpressed look conveyed that.

"Are you in pain?" Kensi asked, cocking her head to one side.

Ok, apparently not then.

"I'm trying to get the order right," Deeks scolded, ignoring his partner.

"I told you to just stick with the facts," Sam told him.

"I _am_," Deeks retorted. "But everything from now kind of happened fast."

Very, very fast. Even now, some of the memories were a bit of a blur. He was kind of relying on his memory of the subsequent case reports, not what actually happened to him.

"Finally," his partner muttered but he ignored her. Again.

Yes, not exactly the _safest_ thing for him to do but she didn't appreciate the need for a story to _flow_.

"It won't make sense otherwise," he continued.

"It's barely making sense now," Callen felt the need to add.

Deeks decided to ignore him too. He was a man of few (of any) words. There was no way he could understand the _struggle_ Deeks was having with this. There were just so many things to consider. He had to make sure that the story was exciting but still correctly giving the facts. But not _too_ many facts or else he'd start yet _another_ feud with the LAPD and that was how the team became aware of this case he was retelling in the first place. Which was just awkward in his opinion. That, and Deeks didn't think that Hetty would be _as_ forgiving this time if they picked another fight with the LAPD. One that was sure to be more, he carefully considered his partner, physical. Or near-deadly. Who _knew_ what Hetty would come up with as a punishment this time? Deeks shuddered. He still couldn't stand the smell of what the used to clean their weapons. And he'd had only _just_ got the stains off his fingertips. His mother had thought that he'd taken up _smoking_ for crying out loud. She'd given him such a telling off, which he didn't appreciate considering she stress smoked of all things. But where was he? Oh yeah, the punishment Hetty would cook up if his team took offense to how the LAPD treated him. Again. So yes, he did have to be careful how he recounted this tale. Very careful.

Something nudged his arm and he jumped. Oh, it was Kensi.

"You okay?" she checked.

"Oh, uh," he shook his head and grinned at her. "Yeah, I'm good. Just trying to get the story straight."

"With no flights of fancy," Sam reminded him.

Sheesh, he was really going on about that, wasn't he? You add a little dramatic flair _once_ and suddenly it was high treason.

"It's _artistic licence_," Deeks corrected him with a sniff (hadn't they been over this before?).

Sam did not look impressed by this information. In fact, he looked _less_ than impressed. Downright annoyed even.

"Well, I'm not giving you any licence for flights of artistic fancy," Sam told him, folding his arms.

Deeks rolled his eyes and Sam's insistence. The guy really needed to loosen up a bit. It wasn't like he was taking anything away from the story. In fact, he was _adding_ to it.

"Yeah, sure," Deeks dismissed.

"You better not," Sam said threateningly.

Eyeing the big guy warily, Deeks asked, "Uh, where was I again?"

That got him multiple exasperated groans.

"LAPD was about to open fire," Callen prompted.

"Hey, I never said that!"

Ok, Callen wasn't _wrong_ prese, but he was jumping ahead!

"Normally when cops storm the place it's with a hail of bullets," Nell pointed out.

Deeks raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, that's a stereotype."

"That's drastically proven," she countered. "Especially in LA."

"Oh, touché," was his partner's far too eager contribution.

Though, Nell didn't have a point but it was not the point he was trying to make!

"How many died?" Callen asked morbidly. "What?" their team lead demanded as everyone gave him exasperated or disgusted looks. "It's an enclosed area. There's going to be a fair number of deaths."

"You don't just ask that, G," Sam scolded.

"It's a crime scene and in think we'd want to know how many drug dealers were taken off the streets," Callen argued.

"In body bags," Nell muttered to Eric making him snort.

"It's not our crime scene," Sam retorted.

"Guys, you do know this happened in the past, right?" Kensi reminded them as she stepped between them in an effort nonstop the bickering.

Thank you! It wasn't like he had been saying that this whole time!

"Look guys, we're getting ahead of ourselves here," Deeks whined.

They were ruining the flow! Even if he still couldn't quite remember where the 'flow' was taking him.

"So, there _was_ a shootout," Callen said triumphantly.

Deeks didn't deign that with a response. It would probably just start another argument even if everyone was currently nodding approvingly at their team lead.

"Do you want me to continue?" he demanded instead.

Everyone gave him an expectant look. He sighed in exasperation. He supposed he could just go with what he could now remember. It wasn't like this lot was going to give him any more time to track his memories.

"Well, yes, there was-"


	19. The Fight

"I said freeze!"

Everyone looked towards the door and Deeks immediately had two very intense, very conflicting emotions. Hope that he actually had a chance to get out of here alive now that there was back up (that hopefully unnumbered the guys in this place) and fear that there was a _closed door_ between him and his people. With two goons in front of it. Fantastic. It didn't matter that they were barely intelligent enough to form sycophantic sentences, they were walls of pure muscle in a small room. Deeks didn't exactly like his odds on getting free alive. Or even conscious.

_If_ he broke character and made a run for it. That was the big if. Then again, running towards LAPD when they were _literally_ coming in in a hail bullets (from the sounds of things) wasn't a good idea even if he was being Detective Deeks.

Deeks quickly went over his options. He didn't have a weapon, so breaking cover meant that he'd have to run towards LAPD. Which, as mentioned above, was a bad idea.

He found himself really regretting that he didn't portray himself as a 'bad boy's early on in the case. If he had, it wouldn't have been odd for him to have a gun. Not that he would have been allowed to bring one in here...

Speaking of in here, everyone currently in this room were completely frozen, like they'd seen a ghost. Another rat-a-tat-a-tat of bullets and 'BANG' of things shattering seemed the bring them to their senses. Probably because the noises were getting closer.

No matter what way he looked at it, Deeks came to the conclusion that breaking cover would be a bad idea. He just didn't have good odds. So, staying in character it was.

"Uh, guys?" he asked with a slight (and not faked) stutter, stepping towards the door.

He got yanked back by Bordesley by the scruff of the neck. Ow.

"Are you nuts, dude?" Bordesley demanded.

"Surely we gotta get out of here," Deeks countered. "We're sitting ducks!"

He felt really nervous about just staying here. If LAPD found this room, they were more likely to shoot first and ask questions later. Nope, not a way he wanted to go, funnily enough.

The boss man was looking between the two of them and the door. His face white and beads of sweat starting to bead on his forehead. He jerked his head at his two goons.

"Get out there and sort them," he growled.

The goons looked at each other and nodded at their boss; hands on their rather large weapons as the edged out.

"What about us?" Deeks asked.

"You stay here."

"And just wait to get caught?" Deeks demanded. "We could slip right out!"

"Or we could die!" Bordesley argued, almost hysterical.

Deeks supposed that the old adage proved right. Bullies really were cowards.

"I want to keep an eye on you," the boss man proclaimed, giving him a suspicious look that would have been a lot more effective if he didn't keep glancing at the door and flinching every time a gun shot went off.

"Me man?" Deeks threw every ounce of disbelief in his tone. "I'm nobody remember? The _cops_ are out there."

"Exactly." The man's voice was dangerous again as he eyed Deeks. "How is it that as soon as Bordesley here brings you here, the cops get wind of us?"

"Hey, man," Bordesley piped up. "I had nothing to do wi-"

"Shut up!" the boss snapped and turned to Deeks.

Realising that the jig was up or at the very least he was being deemed a snitch, Deeks didn't even think. He bolted from the now unlocked door and into the firefight. He actually kind of preferred his chances here.

All around him people were engaged in exchanging bullets. He didn't recognise half of the LAPD but now wasn't exactly the time to focus on face.

What he should be focusing on was the fact that one of the boss man's goons was lifting a gun at the _back_ of Bates' unaware head.

The goon aimed his gun and Deeks didn't even think, he lunged at him - tackling the guy in the side. Looks like the boss man knew how to pick his personal security - this goon was a wall of muscle. Still, Deeks took him by surprise and they both fell to the floor.

Deeks tried to keep him down but the two of them quickly became a tangle of limbs. Deeks took a hit to the face, thankfully not his nose. He managed to get a few punches in - not that Deeks thought it did any good except maybe tickle the guy. Either way, the goon was distracted and the gun was out of his hand and no longer aiming at the back of Bates' head.

Deeks tried to reach for the gun and seize the opportunity to get himself a weapon but was pulled back into a struggle. Somehow, he managed to avoid having his head bashed against the wall but it was a close thing.

The pair of them rolled about for the next few minutes as bullets were shot over them. Neither of them was getting the upper hand. Until he did.

Suddenly, the gun was right there by his hand and without even pausing to think, Deeks managed to seize it. Some brief fumbling and he was directing it at the goon who now stood frozen over him.

"I think you might want to surrender," Deeks advised from behind his gun.

The goon just snorted and jumped at him.

'BANG!' Deeks' 'liberated' gun went off, getting the guy in the shoulder. He went down clutching it, swearing loudly. Looked like he wasn't getting up anytime soon. Obviously, as he was lacking the equipment to cuff the guy, Deeks stepped over him and took in his surroundings properly for the first time since he got out of that office.

It was carnage. Absolute carnage. Shouting and blood and bodies. Not to mention the shot-up crates and glass. Sheesh. This was going to be quite a mess to sort out after.

Finally getting his bearings, the first thing he say was Bates having yet _another_ gun pointed at him. Only this time he was injured, if the blood oozing down his arm was anything to go by.

'BANG!' Another bullet left the gun and got Bates' assailant square in the back of the head. The shower of blood sporting out being quite impressive as the guy sank to the floor, eyes glassy.

Deeks met Bates' eyes, both men panting slightly. Deeks gave him a grin as he lowered the gun.

"Hey, Bates."

He had never heard quite so many swear words out of his boss's mouth before. It was quite a torrent.

"Tut tut, language, sir," he mock-scolded.

He got the finger in response which made him chuckle. Bates wasn't a prude by any means but he did tend to restrain himself, saying that he had standards to uphold, being the boss and all.

"You good, Deeks?"

That was asked in a serious and concerned tone. Enough to tell Deeks that the man had seriously been worried about him. He made a show of checking each limb and giving himself a shake.

"All in one piece here, sir. No bullet holes, knife wounds, head injuries. Maybe some bruises and cuts and-"

"Deeks?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Shut up."


	20. The End

Deeks released a huge breath upon finishing and waited for the reactions. Thankfully, they weren't long in coming.

"Seriously? That's all that happened?" Kensi demanded, all but shouting her reaction.

"_All_?" Deeks repeated in an insulted tone. "A whole firefight went on!"

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed in a somewhat scathing tone. "Nothing overly exciting about that."

"Hey!"

_Not exciting_? How was a firefight not exciting? Okay, maybe they had been in far too many to count but still.

"Yeah," she repeated, scrunching up her nose and a hint of a smile curving her lips. "Not exciting at all."

Then the penny dropped and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"It's not nice to tease," he complained.

She squeezed his arm affectionately and he couldn't help but smile at her.

"But it's so _easy_ to," she replied.

He pouted but that must made her pay his arm.

"Seriously, is that the end?" Callen checked.

Deeks didn't know if he should be feeling insulted or not.

"Was it not exciting enough for you too?"

Callen raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "You like your cliffhangers," he pointed out.

Okay, that was a fair point. They were too good for dramatic flair _not_ to use them.

"Well, we had to lug a whole lot of drug dealers down to the precinct but for some reason they didn't want me involved in that."

"I wonder why?" Sam responded sarcastically but Deeks saw the smile on his face.

He was onto the big guy. Deeks knew that Sam was somewhat impressed by what he had managed to do. Okay, it might not have been the _cleverest_ thing in hindsight but it got the job done. And he was alive to tell the tale. Everything was good. Excellent even.

"So, that's how this case ended? Your infamous case?" Kensi asked.

A nervous laugh escaped him as he rubbed the back of his head. This was all still this embarrassing for him, even though he had been regaling them with it. It was better for him to put his own spin on it after all. He'd really not liked how Bates had just dropped this into his damned award, it was completely unnecessary and downright embarrassing. Unfortunately, it had apparently come something of an LAPD legend now. Something to impress the new recruits with. See? Embarrassing.

"Yeah, that's how it ended," he replied quietly.

There really wasn't anything left to tell, except how all the dealers were processed and brought to trial but no one enjoyed hearing about those. No tales of daring-do about that.

"That can't be it," Eric said shaking his head. "There are way too many loose ends here."

"I have so many questions," Nell added.

"I always have questions when it comes to Deeks," Sam muttered to Callen who smirked.

"I thought I tied up all of the loose ends pretty well."

Everyone directed him the exact same disbelieving look.

"Oh, wow. I guess not."

"How did LAPD even find you? You never mentioned having a phone," Eric queried with a thoughtful frown.

"Drug dealers always have a phone," Kensi stated. "Burn phones usually but they have them."

Deeks shook his head. "Not me. I wasn't trusted with one. Did all my 'dealings' the old-fashioned way."

"Bet that was fun," Callen said with a snort.

Deeks pulled a face. Trying to keep track of people and getting regulars was much more difficult without a phone. Not that he _wanted_ a legitimate drug dealing operation but still. It had been an awful lot more difficult to establish himself. Though, because he didn't have a phone with a list of less than reputable contacts he didn't feel as slimy when in character. Which was something.

"Video cameras up until me and Bordesley/Wilkes left the main road. That's what took them so long, they had to search a wide area.

"But they found you," Kensi stated.

"By sheer luck," Deeks said bluntly.

LAPD had found the warehouse completely by accident. Apparently, someone needed to take a leak and ducked behind a piece of dilapidated fencing and saw Bordesley's car. He shook his head trying to rid his mind of the what-ifs. Those were never good.

Looks like everyone else was thinking the same thing if their silence was anything to go by. They all knew of that feeling, wondering if they were going to get somewhere in time, wondering if they were going to be alive for just a bit longer.

Sam clapped him hard on the back.

"Alls well that ends well," he said happily.

"Yeah," Deeks answered with a tired smile.

He'd brought people to justice, dissolved a major drug ring and made his name in undercover work. So, yes. It had turned out well.

"Have you got it all out of your system now, Mr Deeks?" Hetty questioned.

Deeks eyed her warily, wondering when she had reappeared. "Yeah."

"Do you feel better about it?"

'Better' wasn't exactly the right word to describe how he was feeling. Embarrassed, emotionally exhausted, kind of proud but not 'better'. Though it did feel sort of good to share it with his team.

"I guess so," he said slowly.

She nodded at them and then clapped her hands making them all jump.

"Am I to assume that all required paperwork has been done?" she queried.

She got several hasty "Yes ma'ams", none of them stupid enough to slack of before finishing up paperwork. You only made that mistake once with Henrietta Lange.

"They stopped me from doing mine," Deeks tattled, pointing his finger at Sam and Callen.

"You were already done," Sam retorted, folding his arms in an unamused manner. "You were trying to get ahead."

"Just because I take pride-"

Hetty held up a hand to stop them both. You obeyed the hand.

"While I do admire your work ethic, Mr Deeks, I would admire you all the more so if you kept a healthy work-life balance."

Deeks was not alone in giving their boss a blank look. She let loose a sigh of exasperation.

"Go _home_, everyone," she instructed.

She didn't need to tell them twice. There was a quick scrambled for bags and they were soon being ushered towards then door.

"I kind of feel like celebrating," Callen announced.

"Hey, there's always the bar," Kensi suggested, nudging Deeks with her shoulder.

He grinned at her, glad that she was just as proud of it as he was.

"Sounds good," Callen easily agreed, he did live there after all. He turned to his own partner. "Sam?"

"If you're buying."

**AN: And that's it guys. It's over. What did you think of Deeks' infamous case? I want to thank each and every reciewer and reader for taking the time to read this. Each of you is so appreciated! You guys are quite literally the reason for this story. Reember to hit me up for any missin scenes for this series and I'll add it to "The Outtakes". Again, thank you so much!**


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